


Love Me Like You

by TheFireInHerEyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Past Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Past Relationship(s), Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 03:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22604089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFireInHerEyes/pseuds/TheFireInHerEyes
Summary: Molly Weasley liked to meddle in her kids lives. She couldn't help it, and she couldn't stop it. If all her kids had their private lives completely private, they would've run the Burrow amuck.So Molly meddles.Her younger kids find the meddling irritating more than anything, and wish she would stop. Her older kids have all left home and have been spared the meddlesome nature of their mum.After Charlie and Bill come back during Ron's fifth year, Molly sees this as the perfect opportunity to meddle in her two eldest sons lives.It isn't every day, afterall, that the girl who got away, the witch who stole both of her sons hearts, comes back into their lives.
Relationships: Arthur Weasley/Molly Weasley, Bill Weasley & Charlie Weasley, Bill Weasley & Charlie Weasley & Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Ginny Weasley & Ron Weasley, Bill Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Bill Weasley/Reader, Charlie Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Charlie Weasley/Reader
Comments: 10
Kudos: 176





	1. Prologue

Molly flitted round the house with urgency as her eldest boys stood in the kitchen, arms crossed over their chests as they watched their mum move about the house, her wand waving as she cleaned and organized the Burrow.

“Why the fuss, mum?” Ron's voice filtered from the living area where he had set a tray of sweets down, grumbling with complaint.

“Would it kill either of you to cut your hair?” Molly fussed over Bill's small pony that was secured at the back of his neck, before tsking over his earring.

“Mum, what is going on?” Charlie shared a look with his elder brother, green eyes meeting green eyes.

“I told you,” Molly wiped her thumb across Charlie's cheek, “we have special company.”

She would never really tell her sons that she was meddling in their lives. She wouldn't tell her sons that their father had run into an old classmate.

She wouldn't tell Bill and Charlie that one of their old schoolmates, the pretty ravenclaw who stole their hearts, was back after a year in France.

“Bill, would you be so kind as to bring in wood from the shed?” Molly tapped his cheek before turning to Charlie.

“Go wash up dear, you have dirt on your face.” With her eldest sons gone in separate directions, she continued on her path toward the front of the burrow.

As she stood in front of the window in the living room, she placed her hands on her hips as she watched the golden grass sway in the gentle breeze.

Molly would never call herself a meddler when it came to her children's lives, but when it came to this, when it came to Bill and Charlie, molly couldn't help it.

She couldn't let the witch who had stolen both of her eldest sons’ hearts walk away again. She wouldn't let this chance slip by them.

“This is for your own good.”


	2. Chapter 1

“Once a friend, always a friend.” - Kurdish Proverb

♤♡♤♡

The words scrawled on the crinkled and slightly yellowed parchment were as inviting as they were nerve-wracking. How long had it actually been since you had been at the Burrow? 

How long had it been since you saw the two Weasley boys who stole your heart, and your quills? 

Did Bill still have an affinity for wizard tattoos? Did he still want to be a curse breaker? Had be become a curse breaker? 

What about Charlie? Did Charlie go on to work with dragons? Did he move to Romania like he had sworn? Did he still have his unruly red hair? Or did he cut it short like his mother wished? 

The familiar dried black ink was curved slightly to the right, beckoning you back to your second home. The scrawling’s were familiar, and had most definitely come from Molly. 

Even if you hadn't noticed her name on the bottom of the invitation to her home for Sunday dinner, you would recognize her handwriting anywhere. It was the handwriting that Bill tried to forge to hide his adventures into the forbidden forest looking for cursed objects. 

It was the handwriting that matched every letter the boys would get from home, the comfort in the words a Stark comparison to the anger and disappointment in yours. 

Molly Weasley was the mother you wished you’d had.

Instead of getting letters filled with acclamations of your mothers’ pride, you received letters of anguish from her disappointment. Why couldn’t you be more like the Malfoy's who your mother had went to school with? Or the Black's? 

Why did she get stuck with someone like you? 

The letter from the matron of the family was warm in intent. Her surprise after running into you at St. Mungo's was almost immediately followed by a letter of invitation, this letter of invitation. 

And since it had arrived a week ago, you have done nothing but keep it hidden in the small desk you were assigned in the nurse's lounge on the children’s wing of the hospital. A week in the desk, and a week of pondering what you should, would do. 

“You should go.” Your fellow healer leaned against the side of your desk, her head dropping as exhaustion hit her. “See ol' Charles and William.” 

You drug your index finger over their names as they were scrawled across the parchment paper, nostalgic and warmth associated with the two eldest Weasley's. 

When you were in school, they were your everything. While you were in Charlie's year, and in Ravenclaw, while Bill was 2 years ahead. 

The three of you hadn't actually crossed paths until your 4th year, and only after you were assigned to, he Charlie's partner in potions. Even in 4th year, the Weasley boy had a fascination and desire to work with dragons. 

You two had spent what little downtime you had in potions talking about dragons, a topic you were unfamiliar with, but not uninterested in. As you and Charlie grew closer, he introduced you to Bill. 

Bill was in 6th year while you were in your 4th, and upon meeting him, you were a little taken by the handsome Weasley. He was your first real crush at Hogwarts, a feeling that had never really faded. 

“I haven't talked to them in years.” You mumbled as you folded the letter and tucked in into your uniform, instead of placing it back in the desk. 

Bill and Charlie Weasley became your best friends. They became your shoulders to cry on when you received angry letters from your mother. They were your calm when you were afraid to go home during Christmas because of the horrible disappointment your mum would project on you. 

Bill and Charlie Weasley were your…everything. 

You had even posed yourself to a question that would change everything: did you love Charlie and Bill? 

“I'll go.” You told your friend and fellow healer, but as you glanced her way, you saw her eyes closed and her breathing evened out. 

You turned away from her, turning your attention back to the parchment in front of you on the wooden desk, your patient’s information scrawled across the parchment in your handwriting.

You exhaled slowly as you rolled the parchment back up and slipped it in your pocket. You were going to dinner at the Weasley's. You would see both Bill and Charlie after all these years, and the odds that you would feel those same school girl butterflies was higher than you would’ve liked. 

♤♡♤♡

“You have that look in your eye, mum.” Charlie leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed over his face, watching the charmed broom sweeping the floors. 

“I don't know what you’re talking about Charlie.” Molly flashed a smile toward her second eldest son, tapping his cheek with her hand. 

“The look you get when you meddle.” He wiped his hand across his forehead, the light raising of a faint scar from his many experiences handling dragons. 

The scar was light, barely noticeable, but there. It made him really wonder what his mum's guest would think of his scars and somewhat rough appearance. 

“I don't meddle.” Molly brushed past Charlie as she waved her wand, the dishes flying back onto the shelf where they had belonged. 

“Mum…” Charlie pushed himself off the counter and took the few small steps to reach his mum. 

“I wish you would cut your hair, Charlie. Between you and your brother…” Molly shook her while flitting around the house, the slight panic to her about this ‘surprise guests wasn’t something that was entirely new. 

Their mum was a mother when, taking in all kinds of sorts if they needed her help, like Harry. 

And like Y/N L/N. 

“Mum's up to something.” Charlie warned his dad before stepping out of the house, his objective was the wood shed. 

“Isn't she always.” Arthur smiled fondly, the kind of heart warming smile a devoted husband reserved solely for his wife. 

It was sweet seeing how dedicated and in love his parents were. After all this time, all these years and everything they had been through, they were still crazy about each other. 

Charlie cast a sole glance over his shoulder as he closed the door. When he had stepped off the porch and onto the grass below, he took a slow deep breath. 

It had been a long time since he thought of his younger years at Hogwarts, but more specifically it had been a long time since he thought of you. 

Considering how close you and Charlie and Bill were, considering that both Bill and Charlie had felt like they loved you, it was wistful to think of how you had all drifted apart. 

Maybe, if Charlie had wished to Merlin hard enough, you would come walking back into their lives.


	3. Chapter 2

“Some people arrive and make such a beautiful impact on your life, you can barely remember what life was like without them.”-Anna Taylor

—

The Burrow was like home. It was like your home away from home, your safe haven when your own home was hostile, when your own family life was more damaging than comforting.

You would spend weeks at the Burrow during your summer, the odd rick-rackety house was bursting with motherly love from Molly, friendly comfort from Arthur and Percy, Fred and George.

And then Bill and Charlie…they were the magic that held you together.

When you felt like you were going to fall apart, like you were going to crumble from the weight of your parents distaste for what you were, Bill and Charlie held you together.

From the moment you met them, from the moment they became your friends, your life changed for the better. Throughout your years at Hogwarts, even the 2 years after Bill had graduated, he was one half of your everything.

The feelings of friendship had developed into amorous feelings, shifting even further into love. You loved Bill, you loved Charlie.

You had never told them of your feelings, that would’ve changed everything about your relationship with the two Weasley boys, and that was something you didn’t know if you could risk.

It would be better to have them in your life and not act on your feelings, then to lose them completely.

After you and Charlie had graduated, after you made your plans for life after school, you three tried to stay in touch. A letter here, a parcel there was as good as it had gotten.

But between the long distance between you three, and the different professions you had all chosen, the letters and parcels stopped.

Time went on. The Burrow and the eldest Weasley boys were a memory from your past. Until you ran into Molly at St. Mungo’s, the reunion between you two was shorter than you’d have liked, but you were on shift.

During the time that you had to catch up, briefly as it is, Molly invited you back to the Burrow for dinner. She invited you back into her family’s lives, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you were being invited back home.

“Home.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you stared across the field at the oddly stacked and shaped house, held together by magic.

Being on the Weasley’s property, standing in their field was like being home. The memories of you and Bill and Charlie spending hours outside in the fields after dark casting charms to create fireworks, watching Charlie throw a quaffle around, or just talking.

The three of you had a special connection.

“Home.” You started toward the front porch of the Weasley home, each step taken felt like breathing fresh air for the first time.

When you had reached the door and raised tour hand to knock, a part of you hesitated. You ran into Molly and caught up, but what if the others didn’t recognize you?

What if Bill and Charlie had completely forgotten about you? What if Bill and Charlie weren’t actually there? What if you made a complete fool of yourself by being here?

Were you exaggerating the relationship you had with Bill and Charlie? What if it meant more to you than them? It was possible that you had made a bigger deal of your friendship and budding romance than what was actually there.

But in order to know, you had to open the door.

You had to step inside and let yourself feel vulnerable again.

You just had to knock.

Before you had a chance to stop, or second guess yourself, you raised your hand and knocked, the chance to escape was gone.

♤♡♤♡

Bill watched his mum with amusement as she scolded his younger siblings, warning them to on their best behaviour for their ‘guest’.

Though the good behaviour was short lived, especially when it came to the twins, he had to give her credit for trying. She had used the same tenacity to try and get him to cut his hair, or get him to remove the dragon fang earring.

She might as well have been talking to the paint on the wall because for all her scolding, it never had any effect on the Weasley siblings.

Bill still had his long hair and his earring.

The twins still caused mayhem.

It was in their nature.

Guest or no guest, they’d still cause chaos.

“Bill,” Molly had turned her attention to her eldest son, her beaming smile and the look in her eyes an indicator that she was meddling again, “would you be so kind as to answer the door?

Bill opened his mouth to speak, closing it again as three quiet knocks on the door had meant their mum’s guest had arrived.

“Course mum.” Bill passed his mum slowly, her eyes following him as he walked by, a smile on her face.

Bill shook his head and placed his hand on the door handle, the gold colour faded from use over the years. As he swung the door open and his eyes settled on the woman standing on the other side, he felt like he was thrown back in time.

The memory of a cute little Ravenclaw in Charlie’s year with flushed cheeks and snowflakes in your bangs was forefront in his mind. The memory of the same cute little Ravenclaw cheering Charlie on as he played quidditch in the Weasley’s family field.

You and Bill and Charlie, your time spent together in and out of school, were some of the best times in his life.

You and him. You and Charlie and him.

“Hi Bill.” Your voice sent a lightning bolt straight through him.

He didn’t feel like he was 24. He felt like he was a boy all over again watching his schoolboy crush with pretty bows in her hair. He felt like he was back in Hogwarts slipping love notes into your bag as you passed in the hall.

“Y/N,” he spoke more wistfully than he would’ve liked, clearing his throat after, “didn’t expect to see you.”

He felt his cheeks burning as you smiled small. Even after all these years that had passed, you were still so incredibly entrancing and breathtaking. The way you smiled small upon seeing him, the nervous twitch of your fingers against your thigh, the shifting of your weight from foot to foot…

It was all…enthralling. You were here in the flesh and Bill felt you were about to steal his heart all over again. Like you had when he was 17.

“I ran into your mum at St. Mungo’s.” You had brushed the wisps of your hair behind you ear, something he wished he would’ve done instead. “I like the earring. It suits you.”

Bill stepped aside and let you past, his hand instinctively resting on your lower back as you stepped inside. After he had closed the door, he chuckled low in his throat.

“Mum hates it.” He raised his fingers to touch the dragon fang earring. “She asks me every day to take it out.”

So much had changed since you had all lost touch, yet everything felt the same. Bill had become a curse breaker and had moved to Egypt to work for a few years. While he had loved curse breaking, he desired to be closer to home with a more stable and less dangerous job.

After getting the job at Gringotts bank, he had found himself a flat near Diagon Alley. He came home often enough to please his mum and stay in touch with his siblings, letting his mum meddle over his life as a way to distract from the underlying threat of he-who-shall-not-be-named rising back to power.

“I like it.” When you had reached out to touch the earring yourself, his breath hitched in his throat.

So much had changed, but the feelings he had for you, the feelings he shared with his brother Charlie, were back as if they had never faded.

You had stolen his heart all over again.

“I missed you.” Bill was the first to break the short silence by speaking one hidden truth.

“I missed you too. Both you and Charlie. Life has been so chaotic and I really regret not trying harder to stay in touch.” You voice reverberated off the small living room walls as the distance between you and Bill was lessened.

“Your mum mentioned you got a flat near Diagon Alley.” Your voice was muffled slightly by the sound of thunderous footsteps from the floors above.

“I do. I share a flat with Charlie.” Bill had motioned for you to sit on one of the worn cloth chairs in the living area, a kettle floating through the air to land on the coffee table.

As he sat beside you, his hand brushed against the brief slip of skin that peeked out from under the cut of your dress, and the gap between your stockings.

He withdrew his hand and offered you an apologetic smile, while taking note of how soft your skin had seemed. It made him wish he could reach out and stroke your skin with his thumb again, feeling goosebumps rise to your flesh.

“Speaking of Charlie, where is the dragon tamer?” You questioned Bill while reaching forward to grasp the faded teacup in your hands.

As you lift the cup to your lips, barely tasting the grey tea within, the cup flew from your hands and shattered on the opposite wall. Your head whipped to the right; eyes widened as two identical redheads stood by.

The identical Weasley boys were looking Esther proud of themselves and the shattered teacup that was laying in remnants on the floor. But their amusement was met with irritation from Bill.

“Fred! George!” He snapped at his younger brothers, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” You brushed the little drops of tea off of your dress while half smiling at the twin boys. “Exploding teacup? That’s clever.”

Fred and George Weasley were in their third year when you had graduated, and by their third year, they had been heavily involved in quidditch and in their clever, never ending jokes and pranks. By the time you had graduated 4 years ago, the twins had built themselves a reputation for being troublesome among the other students and professors.

“Told you.” The twin you thought was George had mumbled to Fred, holding out his hand for a galleon or two.

“Shut up.” Fred, or so you thought, stood next to George, side by side and completely identical. Save for the slightly rounder cheeks of George, it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. Even if you thought you knew, you couldn’t be sure.

“Mum wants you to bring in wood before dinner.” Fred started; his arms crossed over his chest.

“Charlie’s out chopping it.” George finished.

As Bill stood from where he sat, he stretched out his hand for you to take. “Come with me?”

4 Years had passed since you graduated and had really last seen Charlie and Bill.

4 years had passed and so much had changed.

Just maybe not as much as you thought.

“Definitely.” You placed your hand in his, and followed him back out the door, ignoring the twins smirking at you as you moved.


	4. Chapter 3

“From a little spark may burst a flame.” - Dante Alighieri

With each strike of the axe, the wood before Charlie was spilt into two, and then upon striking again, four. The wood was tossed into a pile beside the woodshed, the hard work well worth the result.

Charlie liked being outside, he enjoyed living in the woods, away from bustling streets and overcrowded neighborhoods. He was the outdoorsman Weasley, he was the one who enjoyed a life of magic mixed with the ruggedness of muggle life.

Currently, he was sharing a flat with Bill near Diagon Alley. The flat was temporary until Charlie could find a place of his own in nature, away from the noise of the muggle cities, away from the chaos of Diagon Alley.

What he really desired was being out in the open, being away from all the noise. It was part of him, this great desire to he in the wild, as much as working with dragons was.

Charlie swung the axe for the last time, imbedding it in the wooden trunk that was the chopping block. As he stood straight and stretched, he exhaled slowly, beads of sweat dripping down his neck.

He stretched his arms behind his back and closed his eyes for the briefest of moments, feeling the June breeze blow through the tall grass. It was cooling and comforting against his sun kissed skin.

Once Charlie stood straight again, he lift his hand to shield the sun from his eyes. He gazed back toward the Burrow, noticing Bill and another person coming toward him.

He narrowed his eyes slightly as he tried focusing on the couple coming toward him. He obviously recognized Bill from his height and the almost flaming red hair that was secured by a leather tie, but the woman accompanying him was not so recognizable.

It took Charlie a few minutes to place the woman beside Bill, but once Charlie recognized the face and voice, nothing could stop the wide grin from crossing his face.

“Y/N?” he stepped around the chopping block and brushed his hands on his worn pants, ridding himself of the flaking bark and dirt from the logs. “What are you doing here?”

His elation at seeing you was matched with Bill's elation to be by your side. The warmth to Bill's eyes as they swept over you, the twitch of his lips as he cracked a smile was all Charlie needed to know.

Even after 4 years, and technically 6 for Bill, you still had a hold on them.

“Mum's special guest.” Bill brushed his hand against your waist as he brushed past you to grab an armful of wood.

Charlie had peered over his shoulder at his elder brother, however briefly, before turning his attention back to you. He took in all every detail possible as he looked you up and down, from your worn black boots to your patterned leg warmers that stopped just above your knee.

Your hair was tucked back behind your ear and secured with a silky ribbon like the ones you wore in school, the only difference was the lack of a bow.

“Surprise.” You spun slowly, and once you were back facing Bill and Charlie, you placed your hands on your hips. “I ran into your mum while working at St. Mungo's.”

Charlie licked his nearly cracking and dried lips. The urge to draw you into a tight hug was almost too lofty to ignore, and if he was being truly honest, he almost didn't want to resist.

“I missed this place.” You sighed wistfully. “I missed your family.”

“We missed you too, love.” Charlie spoke without restraint, the term of endearment bringing heat to your cheeks; causing you to bashfully look away.

“You still get embarrassed easily.” Bill laughed under his breath as he passed Charlie and yourself, stopping to brush the knuckle of his right index finger over your cheek.

“You still love embarrassing me.” You hadn't pulled away from him, instead you seemed to instinctually lean in.

“If you didn’t have such a physical reaction it wouldn't be so much fun.” Charlie spoke again, closing the distance between you and him.

“We missed you, Y/N.” he acted on his instincts that were pushing him toward physical contact.

He pulled you in for a hug, embracing you tightly. As he held you, as you sighed and melted into his arms, Charlie brushed his cheek on the top of your head. Holding you, feeling your warmth mix with his, made his heart hammer in his chest.

“I missed both of you too.”

♤♡♤♡

The squeak of rusty hinges of the wooden door closing behind you was the first indication that you were no longer alone on the Weasley's front porch.

The squeak of the first board right outside the door was the next. You didn't quite know who was behind you, who decided to join you, but you could guess that it was one of the older two.

“I forgot how beautiful the stars are out here.” Your knees were bent and two steps below your butt, your arms crossed over your chest with each opposite hand on opposite shoulders.

“We used to stay out nearly all night watching the constellations.” Once your companion spoke, you knew it was Bill.

“I always loved astrology.” The stair squeaked again, and then his arm brushed against your own.

Bill sat beside you on the old squeaky steps, his arm brushing against yours and the space between you minimal. You looked Bill over out of the corner of your eye, watching the tall redhead gaze up at the painted sky.

His long red hair was still pulled back, still tied with a leather tie, the dragon fang earring in his ear was on full display. His blue eyes were focused on the sky and the skyline, his elbows resting on his knees, hands folded.

“I spent the first year after graduation in France. I had been trying my whole life to earn love from my mother, just to hear her say that she was proud of me.” You leaned into Bill, rest your head against his arm.

“My parents had been living in France since 6th year, and after graduating I moved with them. I started training as an auror because that’s what my mum wanted, even though I always wanted to be a healer.” You spoke quietly, softly telling your after-graduation story.

Bill had shifted positions, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. As you settled into his side, he placed a soft kiss against your forehead.

The action made you feel like you were 15 again, sitting in the astronomy tower talking for hours with Bill and Charlie until you could no longer keep your eyes open.

Even back then, your feelings for the two eldest Weasley's were impossible to deny. Your best friends were also the boys you couldn't imagine your life without. They were your confidantes, your shoulders to cry on, your family.

“I hated it. I absolutely hated it. I loved the city, but I hated the program. I hated being under my mother’s thumb. I left after a year and moved back to London.” You sighed against his side, feeling as if you could drift off to sleep out here.

“You'd be a terrible auror. You’re afraid of spiders.” You could hear the rumble of laughter in Bill's chest as he poked fun of your irrational fear of nearly all bugs.

“They’re disgusting things. 8 legs and fangs.” You shuddered in discontent for the bugs, the very thought of the creepy crawly creatures had made your very skin itch.

“You sound like Ron.” Bill mumbled into your hair, tightening his hold on your waist.

“That's because Ron is right. Spiders are horrible.” You nearly shuddered again.

“You think you could’ve become a tough auror? Little Ravenclaw afraid of spiders.” Bill teased you again, receiving a smack to his shoulder from you.

“It was my mum's wish not mine.” You sat up a little straighter and sighed. I moved back and started the program for becoming a healer. Never looked back.”

There was silence then, between you and Bill, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was two lifelong friends coming together, enjoying each others company. The silence between you two didn't feel that way; it felt like you were talking without having to say a word.

It was just you and Bill in this moment, on this porch. It was his arm around your shoulders and your head tucked into his neck.

The moment was perfect, and you knew that if you stayed any longer, you would’ve slipped into a peaceful slumber.

“I should go.” You yawned unapologetically into his neck, further pushing yourself into his side.

“Don't get too comfortable, love. You'll fall asleep.” Bill's voice was soothing and comforting, beckoning you into a dream world.

“I know.” You slowly peeled yourself away from his side, shivering at the loss of heat.

You forced yourself to stand, stretching your arms high above your head to try and further wake yourself. If you didn't, you feared you'd curl right back into Bill.

“It was nice seeing everyone.” You stepped down one step and then another.

“We both missed you.” Bill followed; hands shoved in his pockets.

“I miss you too, William.” You tilt your head and grinned, turning on your heel to face him. “I should go through.”

Bill took another step forward, and then another. When he was standing in front of you again, he reached out and traced his fingertips against the veins in your wrists as he lifts the back of your hand to his lips.

“Goodnight, love. We hope to see you again.”


	5. Chapter 4

The paper felt thick and heavy in your hands, like the ink was raised and bubbling off the page as you read the words splashed on the front page.

Your disgust, your seething irritation at the woman called Skeeter, the lies she spread about the boy, about Harry, in his 4th year during the Tri-Wizard was disgusting enough.

But the lies laid out in back and white, the shifting pictures and texts swearing up and down that Harry was a liar was horrific. The poor boy had experienced so much loss already, and having to watch his friend, his school mate die at the hands of he-who-shall-not-be-named would’ve been traumatizing enough, but to have the Wizarding population think you were delusional.

“Disgusting rubbish.” You crumpled the paper into a tight ball and threw it in the fireplace in the ward.

The red and orange flames kissed the wizarding newspaper first touching the ink and then combustion upon the trash written inside. It was reduced to cinder ash, the stories contained full of lies with the intent to make the minister feel better about himself and his job, was gone.

At least it was gone from your hands.

It was never your favorite thing to read, the daily prophet. Most days the news was nothing but fear mongering and here-say by bored witches and wizards. But since the events of the Tri-Wizard tournament, the paper has almost taken the opposite approach.

By claiming that Harry Potter is a liar, by claiming that he has possibly lost his mind, they have dissuaded all caution and thrown it to the wind. Cornelius Fudge has done everything he can to deny the return of he-who-shall-not-be-named either because of foolishness or fear.

Or perhaps both.

But it was maddening.

In the end it would sparsely matter what anyone said to the minister. If he chose not to act and he chose not to react to what Harry had said, then nothing would get through to him. Not Dumbledore, not Harry, not any of the signs that were so blatantly pointing to the return of Voldemort.

“I hate the paper too. Filled with nothing but trash.” Your fellow healer who was coming to relieve you of your shift had spoken her likened distaste, while pulling her white apron shift over her dress.

“Rita Skeeter is the worst.” You closed your eyes and turned your neck from the left to the right, cracking your neck.

When you opened your eyes again, then head doctor of the ward had wandered over with parchment charts. The mild case of stress had settled into the rather gentle wrinkles and lines on his kind face. His greying blonde hair was slicked back and tied with a single leather string, the kind that reminded you of Bill.

Though the doctors hair was much thinner, as it wore thin with age and stress of the job he was given. And the greying hair weed into his blonde hair, wearing throughout the strands like a vine breaking through a wall to reach sunlight. It gave him even more of a kindly appearance, almost grandfatherly despite the order wizard never marrying or having kids.

“Busy night tonight.” The short exhale was followed by a shake of his head. “Random attacks in dark alleys is usually a muggle problem.”

There was an unspoken name on the tip of your tongue that you couldn’t, wouldn’t dare speak. The name alone was not a name many would openly whisper, and the thought of who would or could be behind the attacks was more than some could handle.

“Usually.” You replied to the doctor with hesitation.

“Never matter. I’m sure the minister has everything under control!” The doctor chuckled weakly following his statement. After which he had cleared his throat and waved his hand in your direction.

“You are done your shift Miss L/N. What are you doing hanging about after work here? I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.” The doctor had politely dismissed you with another wave of his hand before he had turned to your relief healer.

With a tired sigh, you turned and left the ward, dropping off your white healers apron to be specially cleaned by the employed house elf’s. As you stepped outside the doors of St. Mungo’s, you felt the weight of exhaustion hitting you like a freight train.

All you wanted to do was return to your flat and fall into your bed. But the present reminder in the back of your mind that you had other priorities, promises, were not going to be forgotten.

Today, after all, was supposed to be your first meeting with the Order of the Phoenix. People were expecting you.

Charlie was expecting you.

Bill was expecting you.

And merlin knows Molly was, and if you disappointed Molly….

—

12 Grimmauld place stood in front of you with dark bricks and a black wooden door, the only sign of life inside was the soft glow of the indoor lights bouncing off the walls and peeking through the windows.

You hesitated in going inside. Were you nervous to be around people you have grown to know and respect as father figures and mother figures? Were you nervous to see Charlie and Bill? Were you afraid that you would embarrass yourself? Would you make a mockery of the people who vouched and wished for you to be there?

“Bloody hell Y/N,” you mentally kicked yourself, “walk in.”

Still, the first step was hesitant. You were nervous to cross the threshold, to enter a house that once held witches and wizards your parents admired, but held it behind a well hidden veil. You didn’t desire to be in a house that once had people who were so cruel to those they deemed traitors, unworthy of their time.

Like the Weasley’s. Like the Potter’s. Like the Longbottom’s. The witch and wizard families who sympathized and mingled amongst the ‘mud-blood’s’.

When you had finally reached the door, your raised your fist and knocked twice on the wooden door with your knuckles. You didn’t know the exact approach to being here, whether you should just walk in or knock.

When you chose to knock instead of walking in, you also chose to wait. A moment passed by and then you heard the pounding of feet on a staircase, and the faint sound of the twins names being yelled, moat likely from Molly.

As another moment passed, you turned the knob and slipped into the house of Black. You closes the door behind you with a soft click, and took the time to let your eyes wander around the entrance way to the dark house.

Directly in front of the door was a long hallway that would’ve lead to the kitchen and dining room, or so you guessed. Off to the right of the door was a staircase that led to the rooms in the upper parts of the house, the rooms which were occupied partly by the Weasley’s.

A few steps into the house and on the left was one of, probably many, sitting rooms. A grand fireplace in the sitting room was lit but burning low. The hot embers glowing beneath the burning logs was producing welcoming and warming heat, a grand contrast to the cold feel of the house.

A few feet away from the fire were two dusty, but otherwise plush looking couches with gold trim surrounding the wood frame. The wooden legs of the couch were of the macabre, somewhat creepy looking snakes carved into the wood.

“I hate this place.” You shuddered and turned away from the sitting area.

“You’re not the only one.” When Charlie spoke, you whipped your head around to see your favorite dragonologist standing on the stairs smiling at you.

“Charlie!” You couldn’t hide the smile behind your voice as he started down the steps, stopping a few inches from you.

“Nice to see you again, love.” He whispered into your hair as he wove his arms around your waist, enveloping you in a famous Weasley hug, but something that was special to Charlie.

“How are you managing being in such a house?” you scowled and pulled away, scrunching your nose in disgust.

“Having such pretty company helps.” A flash of red crossed his cheeks when he complimented you in such a way, the subtle shake of his bottom lip was a small sign that he was maybe just a little nervous.

“Charlie,” you grinned in return, your heart and stomach fluttering, “you’re so sweet.”

“I’m glad you came. It’s not the same without you.” He reached out his hand and brushed his fingertips across your cheekbone. The simple touch had caused goosebumps to rise on your skin and if you hadn’t already been leaning into Charlie, now you the two of you were almost sharing the same space.

It made you want to confess your feelings, to tell him how you felt after all these years. It made you want to kick-start something with Charlie.

You had fallen into the moment, completely ignoring the house as you focused on Charlie. You focused on Charlie and the way he was looking at you. You focused on Charlie and the faint little nicks and cuts he had gotten from the various dragons he had been working with.

He was still as brave and as handsome as he was when he was flying high above the quidditch pitch, or dragging you into the forbidden forest at night to show you the newest creature he had stumbled upon.

Charlie Weasley was one of the bravest gryffindor’s you had ever come across while in school.

“You’re so beautiful.” Charlie spoke again. He mumbled as he moved in, pressed his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss.

Your hands moved to his shoulders. You leaned in and pressed yourself against him as your lips moved against his and his against yours. You felt yourself taken back to your 7th year, taken back to the stolen kiss the night before your graduation from Hogwarts.

That night, that kiss was a goodbye. It was a promise that you would always love each other and always be friends, but your lives were about to take different path.

That kiss the night before Hogwarts was the ending of a chapter.

But this…this kiss was so much more.

This kiss right now…it was your beginning.


End file.
